


this is your kingdom, this is your crown (this is your story)

by arrow_through_my_writers_block



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Felicity Smoak is a mommy, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Oliver Queen is a dad, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, cuteness, parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6240028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrow_through_my_writers_block/pseuds/arrow_through_my_writers_block
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all things future parent, featuring Olicity parenting their daughter Isabella Moira Queen, Issie for short!</p><p>1. Lessons<br/>2. Little Feet & Big Fears<br/>3. Mr. Buck<br/>4. One Day. Someday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy parental Olicity goodness!

photo from @candykizzes24 on tumblr!

* * *

 

Felicity watched as their daughter stood in awe. Awe of the magical things in the exhibit hall. Awe of the crowds and the colors. It was adorable and it tugged at her heart. For a long time she had assumed they would never have children - she had assumed that his explanation to William in that video so long ago had been the answer to that looming question. 

But then Oliver had gotten serious one night. He had held her in his arms, rubbing her back and breathing in the silence. He had cleared his throat and she could almost feel the furrow his brow was scrunched into. “So, kids…” Oliver had murmured. 

She had shifted and turned to study his face. “Kids?”

His furrow had softened and his lips had spread into a grin. “Yeah. Kids. Want some?”

And that had been it. Squeals of excitement. Giggles of giddiness. Moans of pleasure. And a little over nine months later, their child was born. Their baby girl. Isabella Moira Queen. Issie for short.

Issie was two years old. Bright and vibrant. Intelligent and curious. A perfect combination of Felicity and Oliver, with a splash of Thea’s influence. They doted on her - spoiled her. Everyone. When Felicity had begged Oliver to take the trip to Vegas for a kid’s convention, she was surprised when he had instantly agreed. A convention dedicated to fun toys and exciting shows and other adorable things, the whole excursion spurred by her memories of going to the same convention when she was a child. She had loved every second, and she wanted to give that experience to her daughter.

They walked the floor, letting Issie lead the way. She explored booths and exhibits, played on fancy new playsets and went through challenging obstacle courses. Even in her miniature high-fashion dress and coat, she did it all. So much like her parents. So much like the adults she had seen facing the world. It made Felicity proud.

She watched Oliver take her to a booth featuring targets and small bows with blunted arrows. He was beaming, smile spread over his lips and glistening moisture in his eyes. He was such a sap when it came to Issie, and she loved it.

“Wanna try, Issie?” Felicity heard him ask as he took a bow and tested the tightness of the bowstring.

Issie shook her head. “Daddy first!”

Oliver chuckled his breathy chuckle that made Felicity smile, then knelt down beside Issie. “Okay. Daddy first,” he said. Issie giggled and shifted from foot to foot excitedly, the stuffed animal she insisted on carrying everywhere swinging at her side, tail gliding along the dirty floor.

Felicity got her camera out. The bright pink polaroid she had purchased when she learned they were having a baby girl. She never left the house without it. It was an essential piece of tech, even more important than her Palmer Tech tablet.

Oliver explained the mechanisms of the bow - how to pull the bowstring back, how to hold the bow’s frame, how to aim. Issie watched, enraptured… fascinated. Felicity snapped the photo, letting it capture the moment before it was over. Then Oliver let the arrow fly, straight to the target in his line of sight, hitting the bullseye like the pro he was. Issie jumped up and down, clapping her hands excitedly, her stuffed animal long forgotten at her feet. Felicity inched forward and picked it up, stuffing it into her bag.

Then Oliver did the same thing, asking Issie questions. He was such a good dad, attentive and loving and willing to teach in the most patient of ways. He trusted Issie to listen - trusted her to pay attention, and she did. She listened and remembered.

After the second arrow flew, Oliver grabbed a smaller bow from the display and handed it to Issie. He remained on his knees behind her, correcting the posture of her little body and helping her to pull the bowstring back. Issie was smiling, giggling still. “This good, Daddy?”

“Very good, Issie,” Oliver said, glancing up at Felicity, that moisture still shining in his eyes and she grinned in return, then snapped another photo.

Issie let the arrow soar, not quite hitting the center of the target, but getting very close - one target ring away from her father’s two perfectly placed arrows. She dropped the bow and twirled around in circles, clapping her hands. “I did it! I did it!” Then she bowed to the applause of the exhibit’s workers, giggling all the while.

Oliver watched her with pride, and Felicity watched both of them with even more pride.

She had been so certain such a life would never happen - that Oliver’s fears and insecurities would keep such a dream away from her. But it was real, and she was grateful. So very grateful for the gifts she had been given despite so many trials and challenges and almost ends. Oliver and Issie were her everything. And she was grateful.


	2. Little Feet & Big Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is daddy/daughter work day and Oliver is not ready for the feels.

The sound of little footsteps pattering down the hallway made him smile. Issie always did that, regardless of the moment or situation. Even when things were hard and her cries sent a pang of doubt and guilt into his heart, he couldn’t help but smile. She was so perfect. So important. So much like her mother. Bubbly. Talkative. Curious. 

He watched the corner, waiting for the source of the footsteps to round it. Issie came into view in a flurry of flailing arms, adorable bow-tie festooned dress and awkwardly placed steps, giggles escaping her mouth all the while. “Go to Daddy, Issie!” Felicity exclaimed, following behind - close enough to be there in case of a fall but far enough to give independence. Oliver winked at Felicity and then slid off the stool in the kitchen to kneel.

“Come here, baby!” Oliver said excitedly, clapping his hands and then spreading his arms wide, offering an embrace he knew Issie loved. A safe place. A warm place. His heart lit up with the usual giddiness fatherhood had bestowed upon him. He couldn’t remember a time when he had smiled so much - not even as a child. He used to say that about his disposition when he first settled into life with Felicity. But even that wasn’t the same as life with the two of them plus Issie. Issie was the brightest ray of sunshine in his world.

“Daddy!” Issie shouted as she rushed into his arms with a squeal and a giggle.

“Are you gonna be Daddy’s helper today?”

She smiled brightly and looked up at him, touching his scruffy chin in her small hand. “Yes!”

Oliver chuckled and lifted her into his arms, spinning around quickly. Issie let out more screams and laughs. Felicity shook her head. “You’ll be late, Oliver.”

He shrugged. “I’m the mayor, I think I can be late just this once. They have to wait for me anyways.”

Felicity rolled her eyes and walked over, her pencil skirt and ruffled blouse showcasing everything he loved about her - CEO confidence, womanly softness, goddess-like sexiness and the new trait she had adopted upon the birth of Issie: motherly patience. Even she seemed brighter now, if that were possible.

Oliver leaned down and Felicity shifted to her tiptoes, their lips meeting in a small kiss that spoke volumes. Issie struggled against Oliver’s arms, squealing “Ew!”

Oliver grinned. “Oh, did you want kisses too, Issie?”

“No!”

“I think you do!” Oliver moved Issie in his arms and Felicity leaned in. They both pressed light pecks onto Issie’s cheeks and listened to her squeal with laughter.

After a few more minutes of teases and lingering glances between the two parents, Issie insisted on moving on, anxious to greet the day and the world beyond their home. Her father’s world - one of them at least.

Oliver watched as Felicity helped Issie into her coat and felt something stir in his heart. A new feeling. A feeling he hadn’t felt in quite some time. A feeling he disliked usually, but now it seemed fitting.

Fear.

A fear of change. A fear of tiny toddler feet transforming into teenage feet. A fear of fluffy dresses being forsaken for slim-fitted and short cocktail dresses. A fear of those questionable choices lengthening into a wedding gown fit for a princess. His princess.

This was the moment he had been dreading. The moment that he could Issie’s future. The moment when he realized that no little girl could remain little forever.

The sound of little stomping feet released him from his reverie and he focused his eyes on Issie’s impatient posture. “Daddy,” she said with another stomp and pout. “Come on!” He smiled, his hands shaking slightly as he grabbed his own coat and followed his two girls out the door, letting his fear subside but never quite leave. 


	3. Mr. Buck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Issie loves the teddy bear Uncle Roy gave her.

 

 

* * *

 

He looked in on Issie with a smile. It had been a rough night out on the streets. Star City gangs were gaining followers and absurd bravery, leaving the team at a loss. But they fought through it. Oliver sighed as he stepped into Issie’s room, finding the lamp beside her little bed still on. He bent and reached beneath the shade to find the switch, then paused.

She was so peaceful. So delicate. He wondered if he had ever been like that. He couldn’t remember such a time when he had slept without nightmares or being awoken by his parents leaving for some fancy getaway in tense argument. He rarely discussed his childhood.

She was hugging a teddy bear tightly - the same one she had been sleeping with for weeks. Among all of her toys and stuffed animals, this teddy bear seemed to bring her the most joy. And it was no wonder.

Roy had given it to her on his last trip.

Uncle Roy.

Issie fawned over him when he was around and cried for him when he was gone. She couldn’t understand why Uncle Roy couldn’t remain in their lives, always available for tea parties with Auntie Thea and sing-alongs with Mommy. The moment he had said goodbye, she had been inconsolable, screaming and weeping like he was leaving forever. But Roy had bestowed one more gift before departing.

“Issie,” he had said, pinching her red tear-streaked cheeks with a chuckle. “I have a job for you while I’m gone. And it is really _really_ important. Think you’re up for it?”

For a moment Issie had continued to cry, then she gulped and nodded her head with uncertainty.

“Good! ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you’re the only one I can trust to take care of Mr. Buck for me while I’m away.” With that, he had tugged a little brown bear from his bag and presented it to Issie. She smiled slightly at it, fingers twitching with hesitation.

“But he’s yours,” she had insisted, a little pout forming on her lips with the last syllable.

“I want you to keep him, Issie,” Roy had said as he took her hand and helped her shake the bear’s stuffed paw. “He can’t stay with me anymore.”

Everyone watched as Issie had stared at the bear, studying its beady eyes and fluffy fur.

“Say hello to Mr. Buck,” Oliver had encouraged.

Then Issie had opened her arms, welcoming the stuffed animal into her embrace, completely won over. She giggled and whispered to the bear as she ran away, straight to her room.

Oliver had eyed Roy with a mixture of amusement and confusion. “ _Mr. Buck_?”

Roy had shrugged. “I suck at naming things…”

“Which is why we leave the names to Cisco,” Felicity reminded them as they had left the house and said their goodbyes on the porch.

Now Oliver watched as Issie slept, arms encircling the bear and her breathing light and peaceful. She had so many toys - too many to count - but this one was most certainly her favorite. She was never without it, always holding it by one paw - that one she had first shaken in greeting. Its legs dragged along the ground as she walked, but she didn’t complain or worry. “He’s walking with me,” she insisted.

They were inseparable. Much like she had been with her Uncle Roy.

He leaned over and kissed Issie’s cheek, his fingers switching off the lamp with a light click. “G’night, Issie,” he whispered against her delicate skin. And as he rose and walked to the door, he couldn’t help himself. “G’night, Mr. Buck.”


	4. One Day. Someday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long before Issie is born, Oliver has a dream about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This little one shot came to me and it really has some personal meaning for me. I hope you enjoy.

He awoke and wished he could go back to sleep. The dream was so vivid - so real - that he woke wondering where she was. That curly blonde head bouncing. Those pouty lips letting out giggles. Those blue eyes shining with excitement. She felt so real, but as he looked around he saw a completely different home.

The loft was dark and their bedroom was warm. Felicity was curled against him, naked body curved into his like a perfect puzzle piece. 

It wasn’t the home he had glimpsed in the dream, airy and bright and scattered with toys. Photographs all over the colorful walls and on the mantle in the living room. A kitchen fit for an expert chef. 

It was their home in Ivy Town - it had to be. It was the life he longed to return to but couldn’t fully justify. His place, his legacy, his new mission… all of it resided in Star City. He was mayor. He was the Green Arrow. He was the husband to the gorgeous goddess asleep against him. 

It baffled him. So soon after their marriage he was already dreaming about a daughter. A perfect little girl that already had him wrapped around her finger.  _ She doesn’t exist,  _ he reminded himself as he shifted and curled around Felicity.  _ That little girl does not exist. _

Felicity stirred. “Are you okay?” Her voice was etched in concern and he realized that he was tense and on edge.

For a moment he considered lying - giving her a quick, vague answer before requesting that they go back to bed. But he shook his head and answered, “No. I’m not.”

Felicity left his arms and sat up, eyes searching his in the half-darkness of their bedroom, the skyline beyond the windows drenching them in ambient light. “What’s wrong? A nightmare?”

“The exact opposite,” he admitted.

“What?”

“I saw someone… someone important.”

“Important?”

“A daughter.”

Felicity’s mouth fell open slightly at the word. “Daughter?”

“Yes. And I have this feeling I’ve never had before. I feel like she’s real… or at least that she  _ will _ be real, one day. Someday.”

Felicity relaxed and curled back into his arms, a hum of contentment surrounding them. “Tell me about her,” she whispered.

“She was beautiful, Felicity. Blonde curls. Blue eyes. Adventurous. A total fire-cracker. Smart. Full of giggles.”

“What was her name?”

He hesitated but then said, “We called her Issie.”

Felicity chuckled. “Issie? What do you think it is short for?”

“Maybe Isabella?”

He could feel Felicity’s smile spreading and a trickle of a tear hitting his chest. “Isabella Moira Queen,” she said, breathy and distant and almost, dare he say,  _ longing _ . “I like it.”

Felicity drifted back to sleep and Oliver simply listened to her breathing, knowing that, without a doubt, Isabella Moira Queen would be real. But for now he would simply dream of her and the adventures their little family would have. 

_ One day. Someday. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think?
> 
> Follow me:  
> Tumblr: @arrow-through-my-writers-block  
> Twitter: @miss_writer


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